


Italian

by peterplanet



Series: 1k Celebration Drabbles [1]
Category: tom holland - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 05:13:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18631516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterplanet/pseuds/peterplanet





	Italian

The first thing that Tom noticed was her accent.

It wasn’t thick when she spoke English to him between the bookcases of the little bookstore that he had been visiting with Harrison during their little bit of free-time between scenes of  _Chaos Walking,_ but it was noticeable. He knew that she wasn’t embarrassed about it so he didn’t want to bring it up because it was  _cute._ It was nice to hear the soft lilt of her voice and he realized, slowly but surely, that it was the type of voice that he could imagine himself waking up to every morning.

But he lets it slide for their first meeting. She works at the bookstore and he resolves to come and visit her another time—ideas of conversations on the constellations of her thoughts keep him going through the grueling schedule that he’s become so well-acquainted with over the years. He likes being busy because it keeps him going. It keeps him sane.

The second thing that Tom notices about her is her wit.

On top of her attractively alluring accent (which, as he has figured out is Italian), she’s witty. She has a retort to every one of his flirting attempts and a smile that he swears could stop wars. He finds himself falling in love with the idea of her as his girlfriend, (Y/N) and Tom against the world as he acts and she sells books. But life doesn’t work like that, he knows, and she has commitments to uphold at her little bookstore and he has a life to live that doesn’t center itself in her home of Canada. There are places for him to go and people for him to meet and he finds himself saddened by the realization that this girl—this witty, beautifully talented, smart girl—will be nothing more than a distant memory of what could have been in the years to come.

So, he begins to take every conversation in stride and tries to imprint in his memory how soft her accent is and how she can recite Shakespeare without his aide. He tries to focus on her eyes and their impossible color—he never knew that (e/c) could be so beautiful until he’d seen hers and he finds himself understanding why men greater than he have written poetry about women after seeing her eyes. He’d write sonnets and free-verse on their color and how they speak for her and everything that she has achieved. He could study them for hours if she would simply allow him the time, and if he had it to spare.

But, as his time in Canada begins to draw to a close, he takes the chance to ask for her number. He doesn’t  _want_ to forget her and her Italian accent and her wit and her passion for literature. He can’t imagine a world in which he is not, at the very least, her friend. How he had ever managed to live before her, Tom realizes, is a wonder that he can no longer imagine because she has begun to consume him and his every waking moment.


End file.
